


Always

by Gracieus



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, M/M, One Shot, old!beverly, old!richie, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 06:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12501044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracieus/pseuds/Gracieus
Summary: Beverly Marsh is invited by her old friend Richie Tozier to spend his last day with him. On this day they reminisce the past and talk about lost love. (Inspired by a request on tumblr to incorporate the iconic word "Always")





	Always

Beverly Hanscom, age 67, found herself in front of a white mansion behind a tall gate and palmtrees in upscale LA. Her driver opened her door for her and helped her out of the car. Beverly looked younger than she really was. Her fiery hair had turned strawberry blonde and there were fine lines in her face, but in her smartly tailored pencil skirt and blouse she looked closer to 50 than 70. Her joints, however, disagreed and she was grateful for her driver’s assistant.

“How long will you be, Mrs Hanscom?” The driver asked her.

“I’m not sure, David, I will call you when I need you.” She answered, and David left with a nod.

Beverly walked up to the tall gate and rang the intercom. There was a dull *click* and the gate opened. She walked along the driveway. A collection of expensive sports cars was parked to her left. Their shiny surfaces glittering in the LA sun. Beverly and Ben were more than well-off, but she had never understood the attraction of sports cars. Her husband, however, did own a private plane so she could hardly judge. When she arrived at the porche, she was greeted by her dear friend with extended arms.

“Mrs Hanscom, you are a sight for sore eyes.” 

“Richie.” She beamed, falling into his embrace. She was shocked by how thin he had gotten although he had hidden it well underneath his clothes.

“Spare me the compliments, Bev, I look like death and I know it.”

Beverly had seen Richie just a few years ago on television when he recieved his Life Time Achievement award. Age had done him good and she remembered thinking how handsome he looked. Today, however, Richie seemed at least ten years older than he was.

“How bad is it, Rich?” She asked, cupping his face. She noticed that even now he was wearing his contacts. 

“Spread throughout, everyday might be my last.” He answered coolly as if she had asked him about the weather.

“Richie, I’m sorry.” Bev said, pulling him into another embrace. This time they held each other a little longer. She understood now why he had asked her to visit him. He was dying and he wanted her to be the last person he saw. She held Richie until he pulled away. His eyes were moist but she pretended not to see.

“Let me make you some tea.” She proposed, but Richie shook his head with a familiar smile.She notice d that his teeth had been recently bleached. 

“No tea. I want whiskey and a cigarette.” He told her, before he led her into the house. Richie’s mansion was a work of modern art. It was large and airy with white walls and high arches for doorways. There were paintings and sculptures across the rooms. She saw pictures too of Richie and people he had worked with. 

He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured whiskey for them and offered her a cigarette. She accepted both for old times sake. Richie took one sip of whiskey and a drag from his cigarettes and the words came pouring out.

They talked about everything. They talked about his career, about the movie he had been working on when he got sick. They talked about Richie’s ex-wives, how they were still haunting him for money. They talked about her too. She told him about Ben and about her children. She told him about the business which she had sold years ago. Richie made jokes and did his voices and they had some good chucks as he would have said. When the evening fell, however, she could see that Richie was beginning to grow tired.

“Bev, will you walk me to my room?” He asked her embarassed. She agreed of course and offered him her arm. She found him leaning heavily on her, but she knew it was not the alcohol.

“It took me 50 years to get you into my bedroom, but I finally made it.” He joked, but his eyes weren’t laughing. She smiled nevertheless. 

Beverly helped him into his large canopy bed with its pristine white sheets. She opened the curtains so he could sea the ocean from his window.

“Thank you, Bev.” Richie’s voice sounded tired.

“Of course, Rich.” She smiled, sitting down on his bed. She held his hand, drawing circles with her thumb on his skin. He was quiet for a moment. She saw tears in his eyes and he was struggling to tell her something.

“C-can you hand me that picture, doll?” He asked, looking at the frame on his nightstand.

Beverly reached for the frame and looked at it with heartwrenching nostalgia. 

“I just hope there’s something, that I get to see him one last time.”

When Beverly spoke again there were tears in her eyes as well. The frame had two pictures in it: one of two boys and one of two men 27 years later.

“Eddie? After all this time?” Beverly asked, holding onto Richie’s hand and feelings his grip grow weaker.

“Always.”


End file.
